


a little thing called magic

by ace_corvid



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Cat Kuroo Tetsurou, Cat Sith Kuroo, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Festivals, HQ Rarepair Bang 2020, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Illustrations, M/M, Magical Creatures, Magical Realism, Mermaid Akaashi Keiji, Owl Bokuto Koutarou, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Urban Fantasy, Witch Kozume Kenma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23632366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_corvid/pseuds/ace_corvid
Summary: A cat sidhe, a witch, a mermaid and a shapeshifter all go to a Festival in the magical world.No, this is not the opening to a bad joke.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 131
Collections: HQ Rarepair Bang 2020





	a little thing called magic

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this is my entry for the HQ Rarepair Bang 2020!!
> 
> I really struggled with this, but I pushed myself and I kinda like what I managed to do, so I hope you enjoy!!
> 
> The art in this fic was done by the WONDERFUL @springpalettes-art on tumblr!! She's amazing and has been an absolute pleasure to work with, so go check her out!!
> 
> Without further ado, here's the fic!

It was amazing, Kuroo thought idly, just how ignorant people were to the magic in the world. Magic was everywhere, but there the mortals were, going about their inconsequential little lives none the wiser.

And yet, none of them were going about their lives in his shop, which was quite rude honestly. Sure, his clientele was mainly the magical community, but he had human stuff in too! He worked in a butchers, and really, who didn't need meat? But here Kuroo was working a dead shift in the middle of the day. People walked past the window of the shop, without even a peek inside. Not so much as a gander in the window. They became a blur of passer bys, not even interesting enough to watch as to curb the dullness of the shift.

It was the day of the Festival, so most of the magical community were actually celebrating rather than shopping, or at least preparing for the celebrations. It made sense that they wouldn't be buying today, On the other side of the veil, in the mirror world which was home to the sidhes and spirits, fair folk and yokai alike, they were more than likely decorating the streets in preparation for the fair. And yet here Kuroo was working, bored out of his mind instead. Because he apparently had no human customers.

It wasn't like where he worked was a bad business. The shop had plenty of offers on today; it was the Festival today after all! And yet the butchers shop remained desolate.

Kuroo was probably going to die of boredom. What was the use of being semi-immortal if a lack of customers was what was going to kill him? He slumped onto the counter in defeat, head in his arms.

This, of course, was when a customer finally decided to walk in, the bell giving a little jingle as the door swung wide. Kuroo sprouted up, a polite greeting on the edge his tongue, when he noticed that it wasn't actually a customer.

Well, he'd probably buy something, but he liked to think he and Kenma were on more intimate terms than customer and cashier. One of his amazing boyfriends walks in laden with shopping bags; seems like it was his turn to pick up groceries based on the chore roster. That probably meant Kuroo was on dishwashing duty tonight.

“Hello, Kuroo. Happy Festival.” He greeted, like they hadn't seen each other just this morning. Like they hadn't woke up in the same damn bed this morning. Kuroo snickers at the thought, before remembering basic social etiquette and responding; not that Kenma generally cared for basic social etiquette.

“Happy Festival.” Kuroo droned back, eyeing his many, many bags. If he looked closely, he could make out that some were charmed, probably so humans didn't see the insides. That probably meant that _someone_ had been shopping for potion ingredients. As if their fridge didn't have so much eye of newt that it nearly ended up in their peas. There were plenty of human friendly ones too though; seems like he'd been picking up bits and pieces for the whole polycule. Moisturiser for Akaashi, hair gel for Kuroo and Bokuto, milk and eggs for the fridge.

Kuroo would be willing to bet he'd probably picked up a cheap video game from the second hand store for himself though, too. Kenma really was a witch of habit. Unsurprising though, given that his witchly alignment was that of a technopath.

Clearly the bags weren't the only thing to have been glamoured. Kuroo could quite easily see under the shimmering iridescence of the spell; a benefit of his cat eyes. As usual, he could see symbols (pagan, runic, you name it and it was there) painted all over his arms that the spell. Kuroo had one such matching symbol on his forearm, which he didn't bother to hide. No mortal would recognise the inky sigil as the hallmark of a sidhe who had become a familiar. To be fair, most _magic folk_ might not. It wasn't a common mark, and really, it just looked like a common tattoo.

And sue him, maybe he liked having Kenma's claim on him clear as day. He was only inhuman.

The muted glow under Kenma's skin, a tell tale sign of recently-used magic pumping through his veins, had clearly been smothered by a spell too. So had the bags under his eyes; Kenma needed to get more sleep.

“How's work?” Kenma asked, dumping the bags on the chair they kept for the elderly regulars, shuffling them to get them to stay upright.

“Dead.” Kuroo replied matter-of-factly from behind the counter. “You're my only customer this hour, I think.”

“You're only working for two more hours, at least.” He shrugged. “Do you want me to wait for you, and then we can get the train together?”

“You don't mind waiting?”

“I have a couple more shops to go to still after here. I know we're eating out at the Festival tonight, but what do you want for dinner tomorrow?”

The domesticity isn't lost on Kuroo. It makes his heart pang in fondness. He's still in university, still in the prime of his life, and yet he feels like he's a married pensioner half the time. Well, not with Bokuto. No elderly person could ever have _that_ much energy, God forbid if he hasn't transformed in a while. That's one build up they're always trying to avoid.

“I don't know. You feeling human or fae food?” He asks, instead of commenting on it.

“What have you got in?” Kenma asked, eyes lingering across the 'human' display in the window. There was a piece of brisket in the window that'd been maturing nicely all week. Kuroo had been considering putting it in the back to take home all day, but it was unlikely Akaashi would find it appetising, and he always felt a little guilty when they had to cook separate dinners. Akaashi had far different taste buds that the rest of them; where Kuroo just got a fondness for fish, Akaashi pretty much had the appetite of one sometimes. Apart from that, there was nothing human-style he could imagine any of them wanting, and if Kuroo had to eat another one of Bokuto's favourite black pudding sausage ever again, it would be far, far too soon.

Thankfully, human food wasn't the only stock this particular butchers store had.

It was the reason that Kuroo chose to work at the quiet little butchers shop. It was just off the main street enough to go unnoticeable, but also easy to find it you knew what you were looking for. And the reason wasn't for the lack of customers, or the good hours and generous pay, though those certainly helped. It wasn't even desperation in the face of putting himself through uni.

No, it was because the store had a certain clientele; specifically, it served a magic clientele. And, naturally, Kuroo had always thrived in magical communities rather than in human ones. Cat Siths, feline shifters such as himself, had always been like that, despite blending in with humans easier than most.

Cat Siths always did have a dangerous curiosity; paired with shape shifting abilities, it was really no wonder they were so ingrained in both cultures.

It was ironic he worked in a food based shop like a butchers though, even if it was just until he had a degree. Really, he _fed_ on magic; and souls. But mostly magic. He could still eat food, just more for pleasure than sustenance, really. So he ended up joining his boyfriends for dinner most nights of the week. It was no stranger than a creature of pure magic like a Sidhe getting a science based degree, especially one like chemical engineering.

Anyone who didn't like it could fuck off. Human science was _interesting_. Fascinating even! It was like a breed of magic all on their own.

He much preferred his breed of magic however; tugging a knife handle on the back shelf was all it took to initiate the spell, and the hyper-pressure of the veil opening washed over them in a wave. It was an ice cold weight- as if you could feel gravity sliding along the slope of your spine- until it dissipated in seconds as an overlayer flickered over the room. They hadn't fully switched to the mirror world, beyond the veil; it was only a half shift. As such, it was like they had a foot in each.

This was how an entire world existed; beneath the framework of what you think you know.

Kenma made his choices, picking up some phoenix breast that they could use in any recipe they were feeling, and some kappa drumsticks that Akaashi would probably want to have with the rest of them. Adding yet another bag to his innumerable pile, Kenma left with promises of meeting back up in two hours.

All that was left was to survive until then.

Kuroo couldn't die today, after all. It's the day of Festival. And you can't die on Festival, that's _illegal_.

“Clearly, the Gods hate me.” Akaashi huffed, tangled up with Bokuto on the sofa.“Did it have to be raining today?”

Akaashi could feel Bokuto's warm breath on his cheek. Akaashi was almost surprised it didn't fog; if it was too warm in the apartment, his skin would dry out, so it was usually kept cool, just on the side of cold. Better to cuddle to keep warm, to which no one usually complained about. Apart from maybe Kenma when Bokuto's wild and uncontrollable limbs inevitably blocked the screen of whatever console he was fixated on that afternoon.

Bokuto laughed at his slight pout as Akaashi's hair tickled his cheek, nearly jolting him off the couch with his vibrant energy.

“Do you remember the last time it was sunny for Festival?” He chuckled. That was a fair point actually, but Akaashi was more stubborn than Bokuto and like hell was he gonna let him have that.

“Well, no.” Akaashi said, with a reluctant conceding nod. “But usually it's clear skies _at least_. I'm not plastic wrapping myself just to be able to make it outside.”

Ah, the woes of loosing legs every time he so much as touched water. There were spells that could freeze him in one form, but they were never comfortable. They made his skin feel stretched and usually led to imbalance hormones with continued use, which was no fun for anyone. It may just be necessary this time round though.

“You'll probably be fine with just an umbrella.”

“Do _you_ want to carry a fish around if you're wrong?” Akaashi glared, but there was no heat in it.

“Merfolk hardly constitute as fish. You're damn prettier for one.” Bokuto snorted, in a derisive tone that made it clear he thought Akaashi was just being dramatic. Akaashi narrowed his eyes. “Besides, it's only showering. It'll let up by then.”

“Speaking of showering,” he replied drily. “You need one.”

Bokuto made a hurt gasp, and was probably about to shove Akaashi off the couch in retaliation when the door opened, Kenma and Kuroo both slipping in. Kenma immediately veered for the dining table, to set his incomprehensibly large amount of bags down. Magic was most definitely involved in the near eldritch amount of bags.

Kenma was an excellent partner. He didn't even think of coming near Akaashi, because both he and his bags were sopping wet, and if Akaashi gets wet, he's going to grow a tail and scales. This is not usually ideal, so Kenma stays away, like a good boyfriend.

Kuroo is also an excellent partner, usually. Not right now though. Right now he is the worst boyfriend to have ever walked the earth. Because, obviously, Kuroo does not follow Kenma's stellar example, instead pouncing over to obnoxiously hug him and rub his cheek along Akaashi's neck in a distinctly feline gesture. He succeeds in getting his absolutely soaked hair dripping all over him. Akaashi yells and tries to push him away, but the moisture has already soaked into his skin. It's too late. Fish incoming.

Transforming is always like breathing, rush of magic tightening in his chest, a tune he's always known but he'll never be able to place discordant in his ears. The magic moves over him in a caressing wave, a familiar enough rhythm almost comforting enough to distract him from the fact he's now sporting a tail.

_Almost._

Now stranded on the couch, he goes to thwack Kuroo on the shoulder, but by the time his transformation had finished, Kuroo had already transformed _himself_ , scampering away as a cat. Akaashi gives up with a roll of his eyes. He is _not_ forgoing his dignity to crawl across the floor.

Kuroo sits on the counter where he _knows_ he's not allowed to sit in neither cat form nor human form, licking a paw serenely, with a smug look like the cat that caught the canary. Or perhaps more situationally appropriate, the cat that caught the cod.

Almost as an afterthought and not even looking at him, Kenma waves a hand while muttering in a language that is only familiar in that it is Kenma's. The water magically detaches from his skin, hovering in the air for a scant few seconds, before gathering above Kuroo and unceremoniously dropping onto him. The splash can barely be heard over the feline yowl, and faster than Akaashi can track, he bolts into the bedroom. Presumably in the search of a hair dryer.

“Thank you Kenma.” Akaashi smiled as his human transformation washed over him. Kenma smiles at him, continuing to put shopping away. “But I think I may soak my scales a bit anyway. Bokuto needs to use the bathroom though, so can you bring the tank over from the veil?”

“Sure.”

Witch boyfriends; _so_ underrated.

So here's the scene.

In order to get to the other side of the veil, they need a rip in it. It takes a lot of magical energy to keep one of those around, so they don't. Only problem is, the only localised portal is a 40 minute drive and none of them had cars nor licenses. Luckily, there's a spell for nearly anything and Kenma is powerful enough to temporarily open the veil in their apartment.

As such, Kenma happily stands over his cauldron in the middle of the living room, where the ceiling has been magically reinforced. He has a cauldron which was lovingly crafted with potion-resistant shimmering iron, covered in Kuroo's paw prints. It's currently filled near to the brim with a startlingly lilac, thick potion with a metallic sheen. It gave out a rich scent not unlike licorice weighed heavy in the room. It looked beautiful, and seemed to refract light, creating rainbows dancing round the room. Even the light smog which the potion emanated see to shine, with an almost glitter like quality to it.

The light from the potion seemed to shine beautifully off Akaashi's scales, turning his tail into a disco ball. The scales on his face seemed to light up his eyes, pupils dashed wide from the fairyland of light that was currently their living room. It gave the water an almost ethereal quality, especially when Kenma edged closer, given that the witch was a walking light show. Magic was glowing thick in his veins; even his blush was glowing.

Akaashi jumped back when Kenma suddenly dropped in a generous handful of crushed beetles, which reacted violently with the mixture, sending sparks over the room. Bokuto woke up from his perch, flapping his wings in a panic for a few seconds before settling back down, as if nothing had even happened. If Akaashi could sleep as easily as the Owl-Shifter, he'd be a much happier merman. The potion teetered dangerously in the cauldron, threatening to spill over.

“Don't get it on the carpet.” Akaashi idly commented. Kenma shot him an indifferent glare.

Kuroo hadn't even woken up; he was still in his cat form, lazing on the couch. Every so often Kenma's familiar rune, which bound him to Kuroo, would flare with power, and Kuroo would meow softly from the couch. Kuroo was powerful enough that he didn't really have to be awake to lend Kenma some of his magic. The only one of them that was really ready to go to the Festival was Kenma, since he had to get ready early in order to have time to complete the potion. He has a ridiculous array of ingredients splayed around him on the floor; refined andesite, blood blossoms, jinxed honey and stardust just a few Akaashi could name. A cluster of aconite and a precarious pile of various frog parts were even littered messily around Kuroo, but powdered snake fangs, which Kuroo was allergic to, remained firmly on the other side of the room.

Really, the man shouldn't be allergic to anything, seeing as cat siths usually had a diet of souls and kibble, otherwise eating for pleasure rather than sustenance. It was a strange thing.

Magic buzzed in the air like static, pure mythical energy as easy to breathe as oxygen. It felt natural, comforting either. The latent energy in the room was invigorating, but still homely. Despite how much they enjoyed living in the human world, essentially being raised in it, beyond the veil would always feel like home. Even to Kenma, a witch, who barely qualified as a magical ' _creature_ ' rather than just a magical ' _being_ '.

That is of course the moment a knock sounds from the door.

A cheerful little jingle and a muffled “ _yoo-hoo_ ”. It's Oikawa.

A fun little fact; Oikawa was a Hunter.

Yokai hunter, faerie hunter, call them what you want. All that mattered is that they killed 'dangerous' magical creatures and beings for a living. They called themselves the Order of the Silver, but no magical creatures actually called them that, given that it was stupidly pretentious. They get made fun of for that a lot. Just not when they're in hearing range. So they don't murder you in spite.

To be fair, when they moved in, none of them had any idea they'd moved in next door to two hunters. In fact, they'd gotten along really well with pair, going out to coffee with them more than once. Except then the little hints all seemed to add up; the mild silver irritations they'd all get on their hands, something about Oikawa's and Iwaizumi's general manner of speaking, the things they'd reference and small tics in their body language.

What ensued was a general panic all about the apartment; did the hunters know they were all magical? Where they all in danger? Would they have the move out? But as time went on and nothing really came of the anxieties, they'd relaxed back into their normal routine little by little, rather than casting invisibility spells to avoid them in the halls, and leaving the apartment only when they knew they wouldn't be caught.

Because really, the thing is about hunters is they're not really that big of a problem any more.

They definitely used to be. They were the scourge of the magical community, fuelled by hatred and fear. They formed elite hunting families, organising the structured killings of magical creatures who lived on the human side of the veil. Even killing innocent humans in their fury, simply because they were suspected of being magical. They'd killed countless creatures over the years, and there would never truly be any reparations for the lives lost.

In recent years however, they'd mellowed. There were treaties and massive reforms tied into a massacre of innocent sphinxes; a revolutionary yokai only known by the name 'The Little Giant' had fought against the hunters, spearheading the first successful affront against them. His legacy was a guard regiment that cohesively worked to keep hunters in check stationed on this side of the veil. Hunters had began to focus on protection of innocents, rather than senseless killings rooted in fears, and even began associating themselves with humanitarian work.

Not to say that there aren't more than a few bad apples. Corrupt hunters are really nothing new, using positions of authority like that of a hunter to feed into their power complex; never a good thing. But Oikawa and Iwaizumi seem like a good sort. Not that they ever want to reveal that they're all some variant of magical to the hunters who live next door, and could easily sneak into their apartment while they slept and kill them.

The point is, is they're really just not a big deal any more. Scary, definitely, with a lot to make up to the magical community. But not outright life-threatening. With the deposit on their apartment, that was going to have to be good enough.

Especially not this hunter in particular, who manages to be both frighteningly good and gloriously incompetent. He's eagle-eyed and ridiculously good at his job, but also dopey in a way that's disarming. They have stupid amounts of money bet on whether or not he's pretending not to know they're all magical creatures, or if he's just losing his touch.

His fiancée probably knows though. They can't be sure for definite without asking, which they're not going to do, but. He probably knows? He's just actually not an insufferable prick like the rest of his kind, and actually follows the procedure guidelines set by the treaties, which include not harassing them if they haven't broke the law, like dickheads.

So, yeah. Oikawa. Debatably a terrible hunter, but all in all a good neighbour. Except when he shows up at the exact wrong moment.

Like _now_.

They all freeze, given that they are stupidly fucking compromised. Their apartment complex is no pets allowed, so they definitely should not have a cat, never mind a fucking _owl_. They both immediately shift back as quickly and as quietly as possible, but it's hard to soften the sounds of bones reforming and cracking out of place. Not to mention, their other problems aren't so easily fixed. Kenma has potions ingredients everywhere, just so happens to be glowing with magic, and any hunter worth their salt could probably be able to sense the power in the air the minute the door opens.

Oh yeah and Akaashi is in a fish tank. With a tail. So there's that.

Akaashi makes a gesture for them to open the door, while plastering himself up against the wall as far as he can. Kenma realises it's long past the point it's socially acceptable to open a door, and jolts forward to do so. He opens it up barely a sliver, before Kuroo and Bokuto stand around him, opening up the door properly, but hopefully blocking off Oikawa's view of most of the room.

“Hey neighbours!” Oikawa greets them, smiling wide. Not a single one of them have ever been able to place the look in his eye, and at this point they doubt they're going to.

“Hi Oikawa,” Kuroo replied in his usual laid back tone, if not slightly strained. “How are you, did you need something?”

“Oh, I'm doing good, thanks for asking! I'm just doing some baking and I'm a cup of sugar short.”

“A cup of sugar?” Kuroo's eye twitched. Bokuto looked as if he couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

“Yeah, that's what I asked for.”

“Like, really?” That was so dumb. Was he messing with them?

“I'm making lemon drizzle cake.”

“Awesome!” Bokuto cheered, painfully awkwardly.

“Sounds lovely. Let me get you some sugar.” Kuroo acquiesced. As he leaned away from the door, Kenma shuffled to fill the space as subtly as he could. It was not very subtly. He quickly jogged to the kitchen, fumbling to get the sugar in a container. Akaashi was presses as far up against the wall as possible, eyes slightly wide and he appeared to be holding his breath. He walked back to the door, handing Oikawa the sugar.

“Thank you!” He beamed, that unidentifiable note still ever present in his face.

“No problem man!” Bokuto smiled, uncharacteristically trying not to move too much, as not to reveal the rather suspicious mermaid and witches' cauldron sequestered in the living room. Kenma remained as quiet as he had the entire conversation.

Taking the sugar, Oikawa gave his thanks once more before waving good bye and walking away. They all quickly closed the door before letting out a sigh of relief like no other.

At this point, it really can't be anything other than wilful ignorance.

“Potions ready!” Kenma called out across the apartment. Probably louder than he should've, given that their walls are pretty thin and there are two hunters literally next door. Right now.

“Are we ready to go?” Kuroo asked. He'd finally gotten ready and managed to find some nice clothes without cat hair on them, but it was hard to tell if his hair had actually been styled. He walked out of his room and across the apartment, where Kenma could fully appreciate the fit of his skinny jeans, and his familiar mark stark against his skin. He was even wearing a golden cuff earring, modelled to look like a simplistic cat's ear.

“Nearly, I think.” Kenma had left the potion to settle to throw on some last minutes accessories; earrings made out of deep crimson energy crystals and a utility belt with a menagerie of potions secured inside. He seemed to be rifling around the coat rack to find something, becoming frustrated with lack of results.

“If you're looking for your hat, Akaashi moved it into your room while he was tidying round.” Bokuto came out of his room. He appeared to be ready also, wearing a tank top with a stooped back, so if the therianthrope half-shifted, his wings wouldn't tear through. He seemed to have got his hands on some eyeliner- probably Kuroo, who had gone for a cat eye look today. Kenma nodded to him, releasing the cloak stand from his clutches and making a beeline to his room, nearly barging into Akaashi on the way.

Akaashi seemed to have lined some stylistic scales around his eyes in gold, which would probably disappear if he ended up shifting. Other than that, he'd seemed to have just thrown on a nice turtleneck sweater and some jeans.

“Ready to go?” Kenma emerged not even a second later, with his favourite traditional witches hat, decorated in flowers and stars.

“Seems like it.” Akaashi smiled.

“Aye Aye, captain.” Bokuto winked, while Kuroo just grinned. Kenma nodded, and led them to the cauldron.

“Once I activate this, we should be able to travel through the veil.” He started lowly chanting under his breath, throwing in a last handful of some creamy white powder that none of them could name. It looked a little too fine to be kelpie horn shavings, but still too thick to be usable silver powder. They'd all sat through many a midnight rant from Kenma about how coarse or unrefined silver powder can ruin potions.

Suddenly, the potion erupted into a fairyland of light, as the shimmering smog from before that had dissipated returned thicker than before, rainbows refracting all around the room from the metallic mixture. The smoke seemed to become a purple on the dark side of lilac, almost becoming opaque before audibly cracking, splitting down the middle to reveal a blinding light. They all turned away in pain from the brightness, only to turn back around to see a fully formed break in the veil.

Seeing the portals never got old. They were always an unnameable shade of colour, swirling vortexes with spades of magical practically pouring out. They were indescribable, really.

“It should last until midnight.” Kenma panted. That had probably taken a lot of magical energy, seeing as Kuroo looked just a little bit winded also, but he still faintly shone under the skin. He really was quite powerful when he actually put effort into being a witch, and didn't sit around playing video games all day.

“Then let's get going.” Akaashi linked arms with him, since he'd paled considerably. It was affectionate, but also maybe an attempt to keep him upright. “We don't have much time to waste.”

The other side of the veil is always different.

It's a magical world, essentially reality a little to the left. The laws of physics don't generally apply, as is magic's prerogative, but neither do the laws of humans for that magic. It's home to the magical, the weird, the abstract and the outcast. The land of the taboo weighs heavy with the magic buried in it's skin.

Tonight, it is light.

Orbs of soft, glowing light litter the streets at every turn, as they make their way to the cities centre for the main festivities. It's light enough without them usually; due to there being no pollution, every star is visible in the sky, revealing their world's own constellations. There's a parade, and stalls where you do not have to be careful what you eat. Nothing you can't afford is offered at Festival; the spirits are more jovial, less sharp, in the magic lantern's light.

Kuroo leads the way, as the only one of them who didn't grow up in the human's world. He doesn't know these streets like the used to, mellowed by nights in front of the TV and coffee shop dates and slow dancing music. For once, it was the _human_ world that stole a creature. But he still knows them. For all that behind the veil is all of their true home, it is safest for Kuroo to lead.

As Bokuto had predicted, the rain had stopped so Akaashi could walk freely, but the streets still practically glistened, the neon lights reflecting onto the roads, christening them with colour upon colour. It resulted in a slight miasma of hues, giving the world a further ethereal quality to the streets they walked.

When they get there, the city centre is in full bloom. Lights are scattered through the air in different shades of reds, purples, greens, yellows, blues. Fireworks made of illusion magic spring up to create artwork in the sky, against the backdrop of a star studded galaxy. Countless different creatures crowd the streets, laughing and singing, some even dancing. They line up in front of the stalls, which sell practically anything, from potions to trinkets to food. Bokuto elbows Kuroo, pointing to a stall which announces 'Dragon Heartstring Noodles', which elicits a chuckle from the cat sidhe. Meanwhile the parade is in full swing, dancing down the street- some in beautiful costumes, some in elegant traditional wear. The music projects so that everyone can hear it, but it's not so loud so that they can't hear each other speak, and confetti follows the performers as they perform amazing magical feats.

“Shall we follow the parade for a while?” Akaashi proposes, as if they don't do the same thing every year. They walk by with the parade, looking at all the stalls as they go down, and get something to eat along the way. Then they go down to the beach and play a couple rounds of volleyball. It's basically tradition.

So that's what they do. At some points Kuroo and Bokuto try to join in with the dances without knowing any of the choreography, while Kenma and Akaashi laugh and pretend not to know them. Kenma gets into a debate with one of the potion stall minders at one point, while the others start discussing where to eat, figuring Kenma can be the deciding vote when he's done.

Eventually, they do decide on a stall to get dinner from, and miraculously manage to find an occupied bench to sit on and eat it. They have to run to beat another group who seem to have noticed it, and Bokuto nearly has to wrestle a werewolf, but they do manage to get a bench.

Halfway through their meal, Kenma notices Hinata, his crow spirit friend, and they go over to say hi. Bokuto especially seems happy to see Hinata as well, and Akaashi smiles at them before engaging Kageyama in a quiet conversation. Eventually, after a lot of yelling on Hinata's and Bokuto's parts, they decide to part ways. Apparently, Hinata and Kageyama's friend Yachi had been put on a float, and the poor dear was a little nervous, so they were going to find her for moral support. They also found out that apparently, their vampire friend Tsukishima was being a bore, and had stayed in this year.

They'd lost their sacred bench when they had gone over to say hi, so they ended up eating the rest on the walk down to the beach front, although they'd probably see if they could get a ride down. It was a fairly long walk after all, and they had to be back before midnight.

They almost didn't want to leave, but that's dangerous thinking. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful festival; they'd wistfully noted, looking up at a sea of stars humanity had lost, that it always was.

They made it to the beach.

It was empty really, practically deserted. It was every year. There wasn't a very good view of any fireworks down on the shore, so it wasn't a place many Festival-goers came to, much preferring to be in the thick of the hustle and bustle of the festival. None of them really cared for fire works though. They could fit in a quick came of beach volleyball, two on two, and Akaashi could have a swim if he wanted. That was all they really needed.

“Volleyball!” Bokuto yelled, running towards the court. Kenma sighed, as if already drained, and ran after him, the hint of a smile on his face betraying how he really felt.

Kenma summoned a ball, and the game begun. Akaashi paired himself with Kuroo, and Kenma with Bokuto; playing with the same setter and only the same setter could often lead to bad habits, so they liked to switch it up every now and then.

Also, being a witch and familiar pair meant that that they could read each other stupidly well, so it really wasn't fair on Bokuto and Akaashi, the latter of which had nearly strangled them last time when Bokuto went into his depressed state.

They ran around playing for an hour or so, losing the ball more than once, until Kuroo and Akaashi were ultimately declared the winners. Kuroo looped his arms around Akaashi, heaving and lifting him up as he yelped in surprise, legs flying. Bokuto had laughed so hard he needed to sit down, and like a true cat, Kuroo immediately claimed his lap for himself, basically throwing himself on top of Bokuto, who only laughed harder. Akaashi and Kenma, tired from playing had settled next to each other in quiet, breathless amusement, leaning against the other without much fanfare. Kenma merely tucked himself under Akaashi's arm with a smile, who lightly kissed him on top of the head.

Just as the sat down, they heard the fireworks go off. They all whipped their heads around to see, and to their surprise, the view was better than it had been the years previous. It still wasn't a very good view, but it was closer, and less buildings blocked the way. The sight of the fizzling bursts of light against the backdrop of unfamiliar constellations was awing. Kuroo slowly whistled as another cluster exploded into beauty against the celestial backdrop.

“They must have changed where they set them off from this year.” Kenma said, voice soft. Akaashi hummed in agreement against his head.

“Yeah,” Bokuto agreed, before grinning. “Still not as pretty as you guys though.”

Kuroo laughed on his lap, shaking him a little, before leaning back to kiss him. Bokuto giggled into the kiss, until they were both laughing a little.

Kuroo went to grab Kenma, to drag him over to kiss, who dragged Akaashi in turn, not even caring that the sand was probably getting everywhere. It was a little colder on the beach that it had been in the midst of the parade, but none of them minded.

They were warm enough.

They all collapse back into the apartment one by one through the portal. Festival is always fun, but it's also always draining.

Kuroo is the first to dramatically flop onto the couch, with an audible huff as he hits the cushions. Kenma quietly follows, with much less exaggerated movements but equal exhaustion. As soon as Kenma sat down, Kuroo shifted, pouncing onto Kenma's lap to curl up against his stomach. More than used to this, Kenma just idly pets him. Bokuto shifts as well, perching on Akaashi's shoulder and nuzzling into his neck. Akaashi sighs as if this is something that happens often, and goes to sit down beside Kenma.

Kuroo immediately stretches out onto both of their laps, while Bokuto shifts his weight onto both of them.

“We should probably move onto the bed.” Akaashi notes, ever the voice of reason.

Kenma mumbles, grabbing his shirt and leaning into him so that they're shoulder to shoulder, head resting on Bokuto's wing. Akaashi rolls his eyes and tries not to blush at how cute they are.

“Ok, but don't complain to me when you have a crick in you neck in the morning.” Akaashi says softly, voice near a whisper. Kuroo purrs as his hand moves through his fur.

It's nice.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, and i hope u enjoyed!!
> 
> for those wondering why kuroo works in a butchers, it's because i do, and i love my job, so
> 
> Big thanks to my beautiful beta @Ofwordsandroses, and once again a MASSIVE thank you to @springpalettes-art for her incredible work blessing my fic <3 A big thank you also to the moderators for organising this very fun bang!!
> 
> you can find me at:  
> Tumblr: ace-corvid.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: twitter.com/ace_corvid  
> come yell at me!
> 
> thank you so much for reading, see you next time!


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